Ingenious Ignorance
by glee-wicked-song
Summary: John isn't to know that the reason Sherlock is so out of character is because of him. Finding feelings. Sherlock/John pairing. quite fluffy and angsty!  chapter 5 up!  *story mildly changed*
1. Chapter 1

_**Ingenious Ignorance**_

"_Are you going to move or not!"_

_Sherlock had been sitting in his armchair with his knees under his chin, staring blankly into space for the past 20 minutes and John was starting to get peeved off._

"…_No."_

"_Oh, brilliant! … I give up! I'm off to the shops. Want anything?"_

Before Sherlock had the time to answer back, John had already stormed out of the flat and his footsteps could be heard receding down the apartment stairs. 

"…_Shit!" Sherlock whispered to himself and put his face in his hands, elbows resting on his knees._

_Unbeknown to John, Sherlock had had a lot on his mind recently (not about the case, he'd figured that out hours ago) but about John. His brain kept telling him that he should make John leave- he'd already been threatened twice, nearly shot about five times and been forced to wear a jacket full of explosives- but a very quiet but influential part of his mind, tucked right at the back kept telling him otherwise. He'd never listened to that part of his brain before, (it never told him anything useful, why should he?) but now, he had the feeling he should pay close attention._

_When John came back, half an hour later, Sherlock was still sitting in the chair, hands cupping his head and a grave expression on his face._

"_How… can you _possibly _not move for that long!"_

_Sherlock's eyes darted from the empty space to lock onto John's; bearing down on him and burning holes in his skin._

"Ok! Sorry." John grumbled and slunk off to the kitchen.

_Sherlock watched him go with a heavy feeling in his chest but he shrugged it off and retuned his gaze to the nothingness before him. _

_After everything had been packed away from John's excursions, he shouted through to Sherlock, still unmoved, in the living room._

"Want something to eat?"

"Muh." Came the disgruntled reply.

_John took this as a question and replied: "We've got bread so I could do some toast, and I bought some more beans!"_

_Sherlock just groaned again, painfully unfolded his legs and wandered into the kitchen. John turned around, startled at the sight in front of him, and nearly dropped the bottle of milk he was about to put into the fridge. But he didn't._

_After he got over the fact that Sherlock had stirred, he turned back to the fridge and this time he did drop the milk bottle._

"Bloody hell Sherlock! Why is there another head in the fridge! I mean, I can cope with one but why are there two!"

"Another experiment." Sherlock replied grumpily and sat himself down heavily on one of the kitchen barstools.

"_You know?" John points out whilst wiping the milk off the floor, "I've never even seen you do any of these supposed 'experiments'!"_

"I do!" Sherlock said sullenly, looking down at his hands.

"HA!" John shouted, "You're looking at your hands!"

"And?"

"You always do that when you're not telling the truth! See, I do pick up things from being around you!"

"_Humph." _

_Sherlock receded further into the chair sulkily and almost inaudibly said "I'm not hungry anyway." _

_John was starting to get worried by Sherlock's constant brooding over nothing and walks over to sit opposite the detective at the kitchen table._

"_Hey? What's the matter? I've never seen you this down before."_

_Sherlock looked up at him and John could see tears his eyes._

"Whoa! Hey? Come on! Don't cry!" John moved around to behind Sherlock, spun the barstool around, knelt down and held Sherlock's hand in his, the same way you would a little child. "I've never seen you like this before. What's the matter?"

"_I don't know what to do!" Sherlock sniffed._

"_What? About what! About the case? 'Cause you always-"_

"_No, John. Not about the case." The detective retorted hurtfully._

_He felt John flinch, but he still held onto his hands._

"_What then?"_

"YOU!" Sherlock exploded, like it was the most obvious answer in the world.

_John was at a loss for words. "What have I done? I'll try and change it-"_

"_You can't." Sherlock grumbled and his body started shaking uncontrollably. "There's nothing you can do."_

A little gasp escaped John's lips as he saw the always so closed man, open up and let out his feelings in one huge gush. He stood up quickly and pulled curly haired man into a tight embrace.

_To his surprise, Sherlock didn't feel uncomfortable and strange enclosed in the doctor's warm arms, only a feeling of belonging and openness. _

_They stayed that way for about five minutes until John pulled away, confident that Sherlock had stopped crying, and returned to his original position, looking up at the detective. _

"_Now, are you going to tell me what's got you like this? Eh?"_

_Sherlock sniffed again. "I like you John."_

"I like you too-"

"_No. Not in that way. I think."_

_John was getting really confused now. "What do you mean? In what way then?"_

_Sherlock didn't answer for a few moments, obviously uncomfortable with this. "I… I… think I love you John. But I've never felt anything like this before!"_

John was shaking his head and muttering to himself exasperatedly, like he was shaking the idea out of his head.

"_I might not! I might be wrong! I might just care about you in a friendly way because, apart from Mrs Hudson, you're the only person I've met who understands me and… and…" Sherlock gave up and started to cry again, racks of sobs, coursing through his thin frame. _

_John couldn't get his head around it; he should want to punch Sherlock or run out of the flat and never come back, but he doesn't. When he sees Sherlock crying again he flings his arms around him, it just feels… right. _

_Sherlock tenses up at his touch but slowly relaxes. "You're not going to leave me then?"_

"Only if you want me too. I'm willing to try and… work this out."

"_Really?"_

"I… you know… I think I might just love you too."

_Sherlock pulled back and looked carefully at John's bewildered face, seemingly analysing every inch. Slowly, he edged his head forward. Closer and closer to John's, still examining his expressions. There were only a few centimetres between their lips now and John couldn't take it any more._

_He thrust his head forward, closing the gap and their lips touched._

_It was the greatest feeling that John had ever felt and he never wanted it to stop._

_Sherlock pulled away after a minute, gasping, and got up quickly out of his chair. He ran into the living room and, after a few seconds, John heard the flat door slam._

_He drooped his head, mentally cursed himself and ran after him into the bright light of day._


	2. Chapter 2

_How hadn't he seen this coming? How was it possible to love someone that much, so that every time he walked into a room, every time he spoke, smiled, laughed his heart would leap. That just knowing he was in the kitchen, in the bathroom, in the living room was enough to send those fantastic, amazing, wonderful thoughts rushing through him, making him feel warm and loved. Yet when it came to it, when he'd said 'I love you', he'd rejected him. Tried to ignore his existence!_

_He had totally forgotten that John had kissed him and told him he loved him back, he imagined it was false and just another way to annoy him. He didn't, for one split second, believe it was real._

_It was as if someone had ripped everything out of him that mattered and walked all over it. _

'_You're not the first person to fall in love and be rejected' he told himself rationally. But, for once, he didn't want to be rational. What was rational about being in love anyway? What was rational about offering yourself up to someone only to be squashed? _

_Sherlock thought he knew what love made people do, he had studied it for the whole of his professional life and had palmed it off as simply annoying and it got in the way. And here he was, lost and alone, the result of this passion. _

_He knew it was childish, to run away, but right now he didn't care. As long as he never had to see that amazingly sweet and understanding face of the man he loved again. He knew that if he did, he would make an even bigger fool of himself than already (how he couldn't say! He'd already confessed his love, burst into tears and kissed him. How could it get any worse!). _

_Sherlock didn't know where he was headed, which never happens to the omniscient detective, all he knew was, he was getting away from humiliation._

_He turned off the main road into a side street. Leaning against the wall of the house on the side of the street, he bent his head down to his chest and started to cry. He slid down the rough wall until he was sitting on the floor, head in his knees, sobbing his eyes out. _

_He could have stayed there forever, wallowing in self pity, but at that moment he heard footsteps at the other end of the street. He went silent, wiped the tears out of his eyes so he could see better, and shuffled sideways until he came to a doorway in the wall. Crouching in the depression and trying his best to stay unseen, he leaned out of the doorway and looked down the dark, gloomy side street. _

_To his utter surprise, at the other end of the street, in the same position of misery as he was mere seconds before, sat the figure of the one and only John Watson. _

_Sherlock stayed there for three minutes, watching the bent over figure with amazement, it seemed that John was crying. _

_Sherlock had never before seen John cry, he always was too reserved and controlled for that. But here he was, bawling. Just as Sherlock had decided to go and see what was making him sad (he was too ignorant in love to believe it was him) he heard a faint muttering coming from John: "Why did you have to run away? Was it me? I can't cope with this any more! I'm going to have to move out. I can't live in a flat with the man I love but who can't get over his pride to love me back! I'm going to have to move." _

_Sherlock couldn't believe his ears. There was the only true love of his life, confessing his love for him, and Sherlock was too ignorant to have realised this before! _

_Carefully, slowly, and as quietly as he could, Sherlock got up from his hiding place and walked over to the hunched figure of the army doctor. When he was four foot away, John looked up and stared with bloodshot eyes at the tall figure of the dishevelled detective._

"_Do you _really _love me John?" Sherlock asked, confused. _

"_Yes. Yes, oh God yes!" John shouted at the darkened figure._

"_Thank God." Sherlock bent his knees and crouched in front of the doctor. _

_He reached out and carefully wiped a tear from John's cheek. _

"_There, that's better." Sherlock exclaimed and very slowly, but with certainty this time, reached his head forward and kissed him. _

_It started off slow but before they knew it, it was getting more passionate. _

_After about five minutes, John pulled away. "Does this mean we're, you know…?"_

"_A couple?" Sherlock prompted._

_John gradually nodded his head in agreement._

"_Of course! But… only if you want to be-!" Sherlock added tentatively._

"_Oh yes. Yes!" John squealed and with a hug and another kiss, they set of back to Baker Street., hand in hand, and utterly blissful._


	3. Chapter 3

_John walked up the stairs to the small, but habitable, flat in Baker Street, still holding Sherlock's hand. He was about to put the key into the lock when he heard the door to Mrs Hudson's flat open and a petite voice called out, "Sherlock? Is that you back?"_

_Without looking at John, Sherlock called back, "Yes, Mrs Hudson. We're back safe and sound."_

_Before John had time to eventually get the key into the door, Sherlock called out again, "Oh, and Mrs Hudson…? John won't be needing the extra bedroom either!"_

_John couldn't decide whether to cringe, laugh, cry or be utterly overwhelmed by the speed that things were happening. He chose to stick with 'utterly overwhelmed', yanked on Sherlock's arm, fumbled with the key but eventually got the door open and pulled the detective inside._

"_Ow! John! What are you playing at!" Sherlock protested._

"What am I _playing at! What were thinking, telling Mrs Hudson about us!"_

"_Ahh. She'll find out anyway when your bed's not been used."_

_John was starting to get very annoyed with Sherlock now. "What do you mean 'when my bed's not been used'!"_

_Sherlock was starting to get confused now. "Erm… well… I thought that… now we're… together… that you'd…"_

"That I'd what? Sleep with you!" 

"_Erm… yes?" John turned his back on Sherlock and started to walk off into the kitchen. "I mean, only in the metaphorical sense not the physical if you're not ready but-"_

"No, Sherlock! I'm not ready for that_!" John snapped, viciously._

"_Okay. Sorry." Sherlock put his hands in the air and backed off, in mock alarm. "I guess we'll just stick with snuggling then… not that I know much about relationships."_

"_Really!" John cried sarcastically. "You know I never would have noticed!"_

"_John, don't take it personally." Sherlock gingerly reached his arm out to comfort his flatmate. "I just, I haven't done anything like this before and… well… so far… I'm just getting this from TV shows!" Sherlock cringed, screwed up his eyes, and waited for John's remark, or even a slap, but it never came. He slowly opened his eyes to find John's grinning face about 3 inches from his own. "Why are you so happy? I thought you were mad!"  
_

"_I could never be mad at you… and your little face when you said you were all getting it from TV…! AAWWWWHHH!"_

"_You know, I'd never got you down as one of those people who 'awwhh'ed at things."_

_John grinned even wider and took Sherlock into his arms, pressing their bodies close together. "I bet you never thought of me ever doing this either did you?"_

There was a second of confusion on the detective's face but that disappeared when John leaned his head forward and, for the final time that night, kissed his… boyfriend! 

_Just as they broke apart, they heard a bang from the living room as the door to the flat was broken open. In an attempt to hide John, Sherlock pushed the ex-soldier into the nearest cupboard (which happened to be full of pans) and ran off into the living room. John would have rushed after him but, unfortunately, a particularly large saucepan fell off it's hook and whacked him over the head, rendering him unconscious._

_Sherlock ran out of the kitchen and right into the arms of a tall, but thin, man. The man held Sherlock tightly, turned him around so Sherlock's back was against the man's front, and shoved a handkerchief into the detective's face. After 5 seconds, Sherlock was also unconscious and was being dragged out of the flat, and John was left in the kitchen, alone. _


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm being very generous and giving you 2 chapters in 2 days because I have a few GCSE's coming up and I won't be able to write! :'( ikr! Gutted! So I hope you enjoy this next bit and keep watching out for the next chapter! (Reviews are love!)**

_Sherlock was lying on the floor in a dark room. He couldn't tell how big it was let alone where he was! And what was that pain in his head? Not a hangover, Sherlock didn't drink (or eat for that matter!), so it must be drugs; he didn't take drugs willingly, so he must have been drugged by someone. He doesn't eat or drink so his food wasn't spiked so he must have… oh! Suddenly it all came flooding back. The door bursting… John. Oh God, John! Was he ok! Had they captured him too? Who was this _they_? Sherlock knew it wasn't only one person. An individual couldn't have organised all of this, so it had to be someone with influence. He went through the list of people it could be: Moriarty, no, this wasn't his style and he wanted to stay low if he knew what was good for him. Mycroft, a possibility, but why would he use all of the force of capturing him and using chloroform! He could have simply… I don't know… captured John to get at him. John! How had he left him? He'd hidden him in the cupboard hadn't he? But Sherlock knew John, and he _knew_ he wouldn't have stayed there. So, had they found him! Come to think of it, hadn't he heard a crash after he ran out of the kitchen? Maybe, just maybe, one of the pans had hit John and injured him of even (God forbid) knock him out. That would have been a stroke of luck (as long as the kidnappers didn't look in the kitchen.) _

"_Oh, John, I'm so sorry!" Sherlock subconsciously spoke out loud. _

"_Awwh isn't that sweet!" Mycroft! Sherlock jumped in fright (well… as well as you can jump whilst lying on the floor). "Sherlock is wondering about his little boyfriend!" _

_Sherlock visibly scowled, even though the room was pitch black and there was no way that Mycroft could see him. "What have you done to him?" Sherlock sneered._

_Mycroft walked over to the doorway to the room and flicked on a switch on the wall. Suddenly the whole room was ablaze with light, and even Sherlock had to squint before his eyes adjusted. "Oh, don't fret little brother. Your 'lover' is fine. He's going to have a bad headache from that saucepan though." Mycroft mock winced. "That wasn't my people though so you can't blame _me_." _

"_If you so much as _touch_ him-"_

"_Oh, I wouldn't! You know I wouldn't Sherlock. The same way I never touched any of the 'others'."_

"_They weren't the same as John. He's… different."_

"_Ooooh! Has my little brother found himself a _proper_ boyfriend now! Not just one of those stupid… 'experiments' you called them? I think Mummy should know about _this_! Oh, that reminds me, have you been to visit her recently?"_

"Mycroft, you know_ the dead don't know or care what happens in the world."_

"_It's still nice to think though isn't it; that she knows what we're doing, all day, every day. Rather like _me_ knowing exactly what _you're _doing! It's a lovely thought isn't it!" _

_Sherlock could feel Mycroft's cheesy grin boring into his soul. There was so much malice in him that Sherlock couldn't tell whether he was hated everything about him or just hated him for the fact that Sherlock had found love, because that's what it was, before his older brother. _

"_I suppose I'd better let you get back to your 'flat' with your 'boyfriend' then hadn't I!" He made the speech mark signs in the air with his fingers to emphasise his words. "I've found out all I need to know." _

_Mycroft walked over until he was in front of Sherlock who was still lying on the floor, and pointed his cane towards his brother. Sherlock ignored the aid that was offered to him and stood up of his own accord, even though he did go very dizzy for a second. The detective straightened his compulsory scarf and adjusted his collar so that it was perfectly straight all the way around before he followed Mycroft out of the small room and into a clinically white corridor with only the one door, back into the room, and no windows. _

"_I'm afraid I'm going to have to chloroform you again; can't have you knowing where you were taken to, and all that! Don't worry, we'll take you back home and John will find you and you needn't tell anyone what happened. Just say it was a typical kidnapping and _I wasn't involved_." Mycroft put extra emphasis on the last three words of the sentence, and with a cheery wave, Sherlock was grabbed from behind and had yet handkerchief over his mouth. And for the second time that day, Sherlock collapsed into unconsciousness. _


End file.
